Icebergs
by likecominghome
Summary: The music industry's golden couple, Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin have broken up and this time, the headlines say it's for good. Except nobody really knows that truth about their relationship. No one except Stiles and Lydia.


Sometimes, he felt as though his life was a series of airplane trips and hotel rooms. For the past month, they hadn't spent longer than twenty four hours in the same place, or so it seemed. He had racked up so many frequent flyer miles that he didn't bother buying first class tickets anymore, as he was always upgraded, without fail. His suitcase was a perpetual mess of crumpled up clothes that he never got around to unpacking and there were many nights when he lay awake on cold, stiff hotel room sheets and longed for the warmth and familiarity of his own bed.

But he knew better than to complain.

This was the life he'd always wanted. When he was sixteen and asked his friend if he wanted to start a band, he never would have predicted that his life would turn out this way. Sure, it was everything he dreamed of, but who would have thought he would be lucky enough to have it happen to him?

Life as part of a touring band was more work than people probably thought. They went through countless interviews during the day, often times spouting out the same media trained answers to the same boring questions before going to soundcheck and playing high energy shows. Concerts were the best part of the day and being up on a stage with his three best friends was like coming home to a steaming hot meal after the world's worst day of work. It was an adrenaline rush so satisfying that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to describe it.

Of course, bursts of energy came with eventual crashes, and once they were back in their dressing rooms, unwinding after a show, they often felt as though they needed to sleep for about three years. Generally, they were granted a few hours of rest before they awoke to repeat that schedule, more than likely in an entirely different city.

It was tough and it was exhausting, but it was more than he could ever have dreamed of. He knew how lucky he was and he never wanted to take that for granted.

However, this didn't mean mornings were any less difficult.

Groaning, he rolled over in bed and slowly opened his eyes, noting the shock of dark hair peeking out from beneath the sheets of the bed beside him. Scott was still asleep, which meant he wasn't at risk of getting yelled at for being late yet.

Despite the fact that the four of them could technically afford separate hotel rooms on tour, the idea of sleeping in a room alone didn't really sit well with any of them. Living in a house together when they were in LA or London for recording sessions meant they'd become accustomed to each other's constant presence.

Hotel rooms didn't offer the same indications of other life. They spent their first night on tour in separate rooms and Stiles had never slept more fitfully. It turned out Derek's snoring and Isaac's constant tapping on random objects and Scott humming as he wrote new songs in bed were as soothing to Stiles as ocean waves and he couldn't sleep without them.

When Stiles broached the subject with the other boys, he was relieved to find out that they whole heartedly agreed and they told their manager to only book two hotel rooms from that day forward.

They were better together. That much would never change.

Keeping quiet, he reached over the side table to grab his phone, sighing softly when he found no new messages. He hadn't spoken to Lydia in a week and he was starting to get worried. Though maybe he shouldn't have been surprised. Their last conversation hadn't exactly ended well. Being in the UK while she was in LA meant that they had to try even harder to work each other into their already busy schedules and the lack of contact was making them both testy.

He stared at his lock screen photo, a picture of her taken a few days before he left, one month ago. Melissa had hosted a celebration farewell barbeque and Stiles had been standing dutifully next to Isaac at the grill, watching as his friend turned steaks over the hot coals. He'd glanced up and immediately lost the ability to breathe at the sight of her, clutching the base of a beer bottle in one hand as she raked her hair back from her head with the other and laughed at something Stiles's dad had said. He hadn't been able to resist the urge to take a picture, a snapshot of a memory he intended to keep with him while he was away.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he unlocked his phone and opened their text message thread, squinting his eyes in confusion at the small gray writing above his last message that stated its delivery seven days ago. He wondered if trying to talk to her would only make things worse. Perhaps she just needed some time alone. Perhaps they both needed a break.

He sighed and shook his head and began to type, hoping perhaps persistence was the way forward.

_Babe, please call me. I love you. _

His thumb didn't even hover over the send button and after it registered as delivered, he winced at the realization that the message sounded extremely needy. He'd never really been one to hide his feelings, but he also didn't want to guilt her into calling. The ball was in her court now. All he could do was wait for her to respond.

Out of instinct, he went to his entertainment news app to check the headlines, eyebrows furrowing at the words in bold at the top of the page.

**Stiles and Lydia: It's Over!**

Interest piqued, he scrolled down to read the rest of the story.

_You heard it here first. Reports say that the tumultuous relationship between Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin has come to an end. The True Alpha drummer and the pop sensation have been an on again off again couple for the past two years. Sources close to the couple say that this time, it's over for good. _

_Do you think they should get back together? Or would you rather see them with someone else? Leave your comment below!_

Stiles rolled his eyes and switched off his phone, finding it unbelievable that his love life was newsworthy and that people commented on articles like that as though his romantic partners could be elected and their opinion on who he should date was actually relevant.

Sometimes he missed the days when no one cared about his personal life, when the questions they were asked in interviews were strictly about the music. But that was before their second album went number one and that was before Lydia.

They met at an award show. She was presenting the award for Best New Artist, an award they happened to win, and as she was congratulating them backstage, he found himself drawn to her radiant smile and warm green eyes. He'd worked up the courage to ask her to get coffee and as they sat in the back corner of a secluded café, he discovered that she was even more amazing than he originally thought. Dazzlingly brilliant and not afraid to show it, she charmed him and made him laugh and from that point on, falling for her was easy.

He was never quite sure why their relationship was described as tumultuous. Of course, they fought. They were both strong willed, ridiculously stubborn people. But the media made it seem like their relationship was highly dysfunctional, when more often than not, they resolved their issues within a few hours.

Perhaps the fact that they spent so much time apart due to their tour schedules made it seem like they broke up frequently. The truth was that they hadn't broken up at all. At least he hoped they hadn't. If Lydia ever replied to his message, he made a mental not to ask her about the status of their relationship.

Now that there was nothing else he could do about his love life situation, he reached to the side to grab the bed's extra pillow and tossed at his sleeping band mate. Scott groaned in frustration, taking a good ten seconds to remove the pillow from his back before sticking out an arm to shoot Stiles the finger and mutter, "Dick", into his pillow.

"I'm doing you a favor," Stiles grumbled, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Isaac's going to be in here any minute to wake us up anyway."

As if on cue, the lock on the door clicked, (they always had keys to each other's rooms), and the lead singer came bounding in, making a beeline for Scott, proceeding to jump on the bed and bounce on top of the groggy bassist.

"Time to get up, boys," Isaac called out, ceasing his bouncing to sit cross legged beside Scott's stretched out body. "We got a busy day ahead."

"We know," Scott whined, turning on his side to shoot the singer a glare. "Five more minutes."

"Nope," Isaac shook his head, pulling down the sleeves of his oversized sweater. "I'm gonna watch you get up because I know once I leave, you're going to try and sleep for another hour."

He was right, of course, because sleep was something they absolutely treasured nowadays and looked for any excuse to get a few extra minutes of rest.

"Fine," Scott sighed, throwing off the covers and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands as he ambled towards the bathroom.

Isaac shrugged. "That was easier than I thought it would be."

Laughing, Stiles silently thanked Scott for getting up first because it meant he could spend the time the bassist was in the shower lazing around unproductively, a luxury he was not often afforded.

Hopping off the bed, Isaac zoomed out of the room on a mission to make sure Derek was awake as well and Stiles chuckled, thinking it was absolutely amazing that after all these years, he still didn't mind spending so much time with these boys.

Just under an hour later, the four of them sat two on each side in the back of a large black SUV, driving slowly through the city traffic towards the site of their concert that night. They were scheduled to rehearse all morning and do an interview in the afternoon before being given a few hours to rest before their show that night. Stiles stared at his phone, willing the screen to light up and display some sort of message from the girl he never stopped thinking about.

"What's wrong?"

It took him a moment to realize the question was directed at him. Looking up, he found Scott staring at him, his headphones resting around his neck and his brow furrowed as he rolled a half empty water bottle between his palms.

"Nothing," Stiles mumbled, not entirely sure he wanted to start this conversation. Once it began, he knew the entire band would be involved and he didn't think it was that big of a deal just yet.

"That's bullshit," Isaac chimed in, pulling one of his earbuds from his ear, "Your eyes haven't left your phone all morning. Are you waiting on a call or something?"

Stiles blinked, slowly coming to the realization that avoiding talking about his current situation was no longer an option. At this point, all three of his band mates were staring at him expectantly.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed and gave in, knowing that keeping silent would only lead to being pestered for the remainder of the day. He loved his friends like brothers and if the situation were reversed, he would do the same thing because they always had each other's backs and having one member who wasn't at the top of his game was crippling to all of them.

"It's Lydia," Stiles replied, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily before slowly looking around the car. "She hasn't been replying to any of my messages and I'm a little worried."

"Oh," Derek nodded sympathetically. They'd all been in this situation before. Spending so much time away from home was bound to put strain on any relationship.

"I'm sure she'll get around to it," Scott replied, always the first to be supportive. "She's probably just really busy."

Stiles nodded, hoping his friend was right, but turned his attention back to his phone for the remainder of the car trip. The screen still hadn't lit when they arrived and he reluctantly stuffed his phone into the front pocket of his black skinny jeans as they walked into the back door of the arena.

As always, they took their time setting up for rehearsal, the other boys tuning their various stringed instruments as Stiles sat on the stool behind his kit and tapped his sticks against the drums, making sure they sounded alright. Once everything seemed to be in order, they began to run through their setlist, working out the kinks in regards to the volume of each instrument, but enjoying the way the sound reverberated throughout the empty arena and imagining how it would look several hours later, packed with thousands of screaming fans.

Drumming was a sort of therapy for Stiles. When it seemed like everything was going wrong, it gave him the option to pound away his frustrations. He did have a tendency to enter his own little world, however, and it took Scott five tries of shouting his name before Stiles pulled the plugs out of his ears and acknowledged his best friend.

"What's up, man?" Stiles panted, looking up at his friend from behind the drum kit.

"The interviewer is here," Scott replied. "In the dressing room."

Stiles nodded and rose, dropping his nearly broken drum sticks to the floor before stepping around to join his band mates. Normally, their manager wouldn't allow them to do interviews during rehearsals for fear of distracting them too much, but this particular interview was with _The Beat_, one of the most prestigious music magazines in the world and they'd be fools to pass up the opportunity.

He walked slowly behind the other boys, following them to the dressing room where they settled into the couch, nearly sitting on top of each other despite the fact that there was plenty of room for all of them. They enjoyed being close to each other; it was comforting in a sense.

Despite the fact that Stiles's phone was safely tucked away, his thoughts were a million miles away and the other boys could tell. He was brought back to the present when Scott patted his knee and nudged their shoulders together lightly.

"Snap out of it, man," Scott said quietly, not wanting to sound insensitive, but knowing Stiles needed to be on for the interview. "You can go back to moping later."

Nodding and muttering an apology under his breath, Stiles ran a hand through his hair and smiled politely as the interviewer was ushered into the room. She was a petite woman with bright red hair who looked to be in her forties and as they all stood to shake her hand, he noted that her grip was quite intimidating.

She perched herself on the edge of the chair opposite them, placing her cell phone on the wooden table in front of her, her finger hovering above the record button as she looked up at them expectantly. "Ready to go?"

They nodded, breathing deeply as she pressed record and scooted back to lace her fingers atop her crossed knee. "This is Janie Hollis reporting for _The Beat,_ here with True Alpha. Good morning, boys. Thanks for letting us come to your soundcheck."

"Thank you having for having us," Scott replied, his ever cheery smile on his face.

The grin she returned was friendly enough. "Now, you guys are currently touring and promoting your fourth album. Where did you get the inspiration for the new songs?"

It was a pretty standard question; one they'd answered in countless interviews before. Stiles cleared his throat and leaned forward, signaling that he would answer the question. He hoped getting involved in the interview would keep his mind from wandering. The other boys raised their eyebrows in surprise, as Scott was generally the one who jumped in first. But they sensed Stiles had a reason for wanting to answer, so they stayed quiet and allowed him to proceed.

"We get them from everywhere," Stiles began, spouting out the usual canned answer, "We've all had life experiences and we write about them."

Janie nodded. "Yes, I've noticed many of your songs are written about women. I assume that those are based on real experiences as well?"

"In some way or another, yes," Stiles replied vaguely. He didn't want respond in a way that would lead to a more specific line of questioning.

"Are any of them about a particular girl?"

Stiles cursed inwardly. This was exactly what he was hoping to avoid.

"I mean," Stiles stammered, quickly racking his brain for an escape from his current situation. His eyes shifted to his band mates, pleading for help, but they seemed to be at a loss for words as well. "I don't think any of us necessarily go into writing a song with the intention of it being about a particular person, but whether or not we say it, there's probably always someone that we're thinking about when we write it."

"Like Lydia? Do you think about her when you write songs?"

The bluntness of the question caught them all of guard. Stiles's relationship with Lydia was common knowledge and although they had never banned interviewers from asking certain types of questions, most people weren't brazen enough to say specific names. Interviews were supposed to be about the band as a whole, not Stiles's love life.

Although the corners of his lips curved upwards at the mention of her name, he shook his head lightly in response. "You know I'm not going to talk about that."

It was an unspoken rule. They never wanted to lie to their fans, so they never kept their relationship statuses a secret, which would have been difficult for him anyway considering Lydia's status in the music industry, but they chose not to go into detail in interviews. There were some things that were best left private.

Of course he thought about Lydia when he wrote songs. In fact, whether or not she realized it, she was the subject of the majority of almost every song they'd ever released. Perhaps not directly, but her influence was weaved throughout the lyrics. Even if they weren't initially directed towards her, he thought about her when he performed them.

"Oh, come on," Janie prodded, snapping Stiles out of his reverie. "Give me something."

Stiles's lips parted as his gaze shifted to his friends for help. They shrugged, silently telling him that what happened next was his decision. It was fine with them if he felt comfortable enough to discuss his personal life.

"This interview isn't about me," he said quickly, deeming that an appropriate excuse, "It's about the band."

"Don't worry, I'll get to them," Janie nodded, causing the other boys to shift uncomfortably on the couch. Stiles could practically hear them mentally preparing their stories. "I'm starting with you because you're romantic life has been in the news recently. I was sorry to hear about the breakup, by the way."

The way she said it indicated quite the opposite. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed all of his bandmates raise their eyebrows in surprise, most likely internally wondering how they wouldn't know that Stiles and Lydia were no longer together. Stiles would have told them as soon as it was over, that much was certain.

"Like I said," Stiles replied, not wanting to sound rude but needing the subject to change as quickly as possible. "I don't want to talk about it."

She stared at him hard for another minute before nodding and focusing her attention on Scott.

Stiles made sure he stayed on top of his game for the entirety of the interview. He didn't like being caught off guard and he had a feeling Janie wasn't the type to back down. As promised, she grilled the other boys about their personal lives, but because they were prepared, they revealed almost nothing. None of them had anything to hide, but being as vague as possible was a surefire way to ensure their personal relationships stayed off the radar.

After figuring out the hard way that she wasn't going to get anything gossip worthy out of them, she started into the questions about the music and they all relaxed slightly. An excruciatingly long fifteen minutes later, their publicist interrupted to signal the end of the interview and the boys graciously thanked Janie before collapsing back into the couch.

By the time all media related items for the day were finished, they were left with about two hours to recharge before they needed to head to the venue for pre-show tweaks. Scott was so wiped out that he decided he couldn't make it all the way to his and Stiles's shared room and claimed a spot in Derek's much closer bed.

Stiles would have done the same with Isaac's bed, but he was glad for the opportunity to spend some time alone. He still hadn't heard from Lydia and the knot in his stomach was getting tighter with each passing hour. He had half a mind to sneak out of the hotel and buy a standby ticket on the next plane to California, but the rational part of his brain quickly talked him out of that idea.

Although his friends could sympathize with him in matters of the heart, they wouldn't consider it an appropriate excuse to ditch the band altogether.

Running a hand through his perpetually mussed hair, he pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his tight jeans and slipped out the room key card, pushing into the lock slot and shoving the door open with his shoulder. As usual, he dropped his things on the dresser as he shrugged off his coat, only to stop mid action when he found he wasn't alone.

She sat cross legged on his bed, hair tied into a messy bun atop her head, thumb and forefinger rubbing the silver key pendant he'd bought her for Christmas. He wore the corresponding lock on a chain, tucked beneath the neckline of his shirts.

"Lydia?" he stuttered, his voice questioning because perhaps she wasn't actually there; perhaps he was just hallucinating. It wouldn't be the first time. Being away meant he often saw her face in the crowds at shows or in the window of a coffee shop he passed or sitting across from him on the subway. It was a side effect of constantly missing her.

She blinked at the sound of her name, the corners of her lips pushing upwards into the wide smile he'd fallen in love with backstage the first time they met. Dropping her hands, she leaned forward to push herself to her knees and bounded off the bed, taking two large steps forward and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Once he felt her body pressed against his, he instantly relaxed, winding his arms around her waist and pulling her close, breathing in her scent and sighing contently because she smelled just like home. He nuzzled his face against her shoulder, pressing soft kisses to her neck and up her cheek, smiling when she began to giggle at the contact.

"Are you surprised?" she laughed, tilting her head to grant him better access to her neck.

He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of her shoulder before raising his hands to cup her cheeks in his palms and kiss her hard on the lips to answer her question. He felt her smile against his mouth, her fingers weaving into his hair and tugging gently the way she knew he loved.

"I missed you so much," he mumbled between kisses, not quite ready to break away just yet, his hands returning to her waist, holding her anchored so he could push every part of his body against hers.

She returned the deep pressure, keeping her eyes shut for a moment longer than necessary when they pulled apart and smiling softly when they fluttered open. "I missed you too, Stiles."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his fingers lacing at her lower back, his thumbs swiping up and down in a comforting motion. He was looking at her in complete awe, almost as though he wasn't entirely sure she was real. Perhaps it was because not a day had passed since the moment he realized he loved her that he didn't wonder how he'd gotten so incredibly lucky.

She hesitated slightly before she answered. Strangers or outside observers might not have noticed, but Stiles and Lydia were so in sync that he could practically sense when something was wrong. Still, when the split second of doubt passed, she smiled widely and shrugged. "I just wanted to see you."

He debated calling her out on her lie, but she seemed determined to keep it hidden and he didn't want to dampen the mood when he hadn't seen her in what seemed like a lifetime. They'd have time to hash out their feelings about their last fight as well as discuss whatever was on her mind later. A thought occurred to him as their bodies swayed lightly. "Is this why you haven't been answering my messages?"

Widening her eyes guilty, she nodded. "Yeah, sorry, babe. I knew that if I answered, I'd want to tell you I was going to see you soon and I didn't want to ruin the surprise, so I just went for the silent treatment. I didn't mean to freak you out or anything."

He laughed lightly, kissing her again. "It's alright, baby. I'm just glad I get to hold you again."

Tilting her chin upwards, she smiled as she initiated another kiss, her hands lowering to push his coat over his shoulders and she smirked against his mouth as it dropped to the floor. "Wanna show me how much you missed me?"

She was distracting him on purpose, but he was too caught up in feeling her skin again to complain, so he walked her back towards the bed and did exactly as she asked. Two hours later, she lay curled into his side, her head resting against his bare chest, drawing mindless designs into his stomach.

"So are you going to tell me why you're really here?" he murmured, his fingers sliding lightly up and down her arm.

Propping her chin up on his chest, she raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Lyd," he sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You know you can only bullshit me for so long. What's going on?"

Her lips parted as though she meant to protest, but she knew he could see right through her, and it made sense for him to be suspicious when the last interaction they had ended somewhat bitterly, so she stilled the movements of her fingers and contemplated her next words carefully, finally admitting, "I'm not quite sure how to say this."

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his brows connecting in concern. She never usually had a problem telling him what was on her mind. "Are you ok? Is this about our fight, because I'm so sorry about how that ended."

Licking her lips, she shook her head as she sat up, pulling the covers to her chest as she twisted her torso to face him. "It's not that. Though, as long as we're apologizing, I'm sorry it got so out of hand. I was a little stressed out and I took it out on you and that was wrong of me."

His brow furrowed in concern. "Has work been crazy lately?"

Now that her album was officially released, Lydia had been traveling all over the country to sing her hit single on various late night talk shows and the jet lag and varying sleep schedule might have been throwing her off.

"Yes," she admitted, "But that's not why I came to see you." She took a deep breath, looking him directly in the eyes as she spoke. "I'm pregnant, Stiles."

It took him a moment to process her statement and when he did, he wasn't sure what to feel. "What?"

Her expression was neutral as she studied him. "I took like ten tests and I went to the doctor."

"Shit," he muttered, his eyes immediately widening in horror as he realized how offensive that sounded. Sitting up, he turned to face Lydia fully. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, it's a good thing, it's just…"

"We only just got married."

Out of instinct, she glanced down at her left hand, curling her lips into a soft smile despite the lack of ring on her finger.

They hadn't told anyone yet. Even Stiles's bandmates had no clue.

Eloping wasn't exactly something they'd planned well in advance. They'd spent two weeks apart the week before Stiles left for the UK because Lydia was doing a promotional tour for her upcoming album and things seemed to get out of hand. It wasn't the longest they'd ever been apart but it seemed like every day they were hit with a new pile of rumors. Whether it was Lydia having secret rendezvous with famous actors or Stiles moving out of their shared apartment, apparently everybody had assumptions about their relationship and they were getting sick of it. Add in the fact that their busy work schedules and time zones made phone calls and video chats difficult and they found themselves having a massive argument when Lydia returned.

After an hour of screaming themselves hoarse, they realized they were being absolutely ridiculous, that they were allowing other people to dictate their relationship. Lydia trusted Stiles more than anyone in the world and Stiles knew Lydia would never hurt him and as long as those two things were true, nothing anybody else said mattered.

But they did want something that was their own. Truthfully, Stiles had wanted to marry Lydia since he kissed her goodnight after their second date. So it wasn't exactly a spur of the moment idea when he proposed to her that night. Despite not planning it out or actually having a ring, he'd gotten down on one knee when they'd finished laughing about their stupidity and asked her to marry him. He was ecstatic that she said yes, but he wasn't expecting for her to suggest they elope.

"It's perfect," she'd said, hugging him tightly and looking up at him with those hypnotic eyes, "Because it'll be something that only we know about. Besides, I want to be your wife before you leave."

Of course, he couldn't say no to that.

Sighing, Lydia twisted her torso to reach down and grab his plaid shirt from the floor. She shrugged it on and buttoned it up, allowing the warm material to nearly swallow her small frame whole before tucking her legs beneath her and lacing her fingers in her lap.

"Do you really think it's a good thing?" she asked quietly, chewing on her bottom lip and cocking her head to the side.

His lips stretched into a soft smile and he nodded, reaching out to place a flat palm over her stomach, as though he might actually be able to feel the signs of life growing inside. "Yeah. There's nothing I want more in the world than to have kids with you."

"Me too," she grinned, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly before wrinkling her nose. "But the timing sucks."

They'd only been married a month and the majority of that time they hadn't spent on the same continent, so they hadn't had time to really figure out what being a married couple meant. Or how they were going to bring up a child in the craziness that was their lives.

"I know," he sighed, opening up an arm so that she could cuddle into his side again. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and rubbed his hand soothingly up and down her arm. "But we'll figure it out. We always do."

Marriage would be an adventure and so would parenthood, but it was an adventure they were going on together and that made it all the less frightening.


End file.
